


The Bat

by wolfiefics



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Don't Judge, Gen, also starring a bat, hey they're cute, post-No Man's Land
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-10-27 16:05:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17769932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfiefics/pseuds/wolfiefics
Summary: Alfred helps an injured bat. But it's cute.





	The Bat

_Bat, Bat_  
Bat, bat  
Come under my hat  
And I'll give you a slice of bacon  
And when I bake  
I'll give you a cake  
If I'm not mistaken  
-Mother Goose Nursery Rhyme-

Alfred Pennyworth was a neatnick. Cleanliness, after all, was close to godliness, and if his master insisted on being invincible, the least he could do was make sure he was invincible in a home and cave fit for a god. Unfortunately, the other cave residents were less concerned with both Bruce Wayne's invincibility and Alfred's desire to provide a clean work environment. Alfred thought the bats no doubt reasoned that they homesteaded the cave longer and therefore were allowed certain liberties.

That didn't make cleaning any easier, however, especially the huge penny and the once mechanical dinosaur.

Thus it was with his usual determined discipline that Alfred set out to clean the newly revamped Batcave. And thus it was that he was startled when he discovered he had an "admirer".

How the little fellow managed to follow him around, Alfred had no idea. The why was even more puzzling and somewhat disturbing. What was very clear is that a small bat, still in its youth, seemed intent on "watching" Alfred's every move.

The butler didn't notice the little fellow until after he moved the ladder several times on one side of the penny, trying to reach those annoying spots that just sometimes wouldn't get clean without some serious scrubbing. When he shifted the ladder to the penny's opposite side, he noticed a small bat flutter overhead. Alfred had the feeling he was being watched, but shook it off as an old man's fancy.

'Bats,' he told himself sternly, 'care little about the goings-on of man except when it concerns the loss of food in their vicinity.'

So he kept cleaning. Each time the ladder moved, the bat moved. By the time Alfred began washing down the dinosaur, he was getting paranoid. He was being watched!

Unable to stand any more, Alfred gave up, opting to clean upstairs where no bats watched him with myopic vision. The ladder was folded up, neatly laid out of the way and Alfred began climbing the multitude of steps that led up to the newly rebuilt Wayne Manor.

The bat's fluttering wings followed.

Alfred stopped and closed his eyes. Their watery blue depths snapped open, however, when he heard a soft thud behind him. He turned and found the small bat lying on its side four steps below.

Concerned despite himself, Alfred cautiously approached the small mammal. 'Bats can be rabid,' Alfred heard his inner voice tell him. His concern for the injured creature overrode his hesitations and Alfred knelt beside it, eyeballing the bat for any signs of injury or infections. From just looking Alfred could see nothing, but his gut feeling was that something was wrong, and somehow the poor creature sensed that Alfred could help.

"Stay there, young sir," Alfred told the bat gravely. "I shall find you something comfortable to lie in whilst I inspect you more thoroughly." He stood to walk away and the bat moved as if to follow. Alfred shook an admonishing finger at it, feeling foolish for talking to a bat as if it were Bruce or Dick. "Don't move now. I shall return and help if I can. If not, I know people who can offer you aid. Lie still."

He took three steps past the small mammal but it did not move, much to Alfred's amazement. He hurried over to an empty printer cartridge box, pulled out the inside cardboard casing and the plastic bubble wrap, and searched around for some clean rags in which to cushion the poor creature. He snatched a slightly battered but clean heavy silk Robin cape from the scrap bag by his cleaning supplies and fluffed it in the box, pleased with himself.

Grabbing some heavy duty rubber medical gloves as he went back up the steps, Alfred gently walked up to the bat and slowly bent back down. "Now, now," he crooned in what he hoped was a soothing tone. "We shall have you back to eating mosquitoes and moths in no time, my little friend. However, I must ask you to not drop the digested remains on the penny or the dinosaur. And if you could speak to your friends about it, I would appreciate it. It is most tiresome to crawl up there once a week at my age, you understand."

Alfred stopped talking. Then he chortled as he reached down to gently pick up the ill bat. "Listen to me, talking to you as if you were Master Bruce. I have no doubts that you will ignore my request as often as he ignores mine."

The bat fluttered up a step and Alfred paused in trying to pick it up. "Afraid now, are you?" asked Alfred softly. "You want help, do you not? I can't help you if you run." Alfred reached out once more but the tiny form did not move a muscle.

With gentle hands born of understanding the pain and suffering of others, Alfred careful cradled the creature in his hands and set it gently in the box. "There now, that wasn't so bad, was it?" The bat's eyes continued to stare at him but Alfred knew its vision was so bad that it mattered little. Still, he considered, it had a pleading look to it.

With a disgusted mutter to himself, Alfred hoisted himself up, box in hand and continued his path upstairs.

* * *

Bruce Wayne returned from his lunch meeting with a scowl. He hated business meetings. Though it was nice to know the quake and No Man's Land hadn't ruined his finances, he wasn't happy about not getting as many jobs as he liked for the returning Gothamites and the NMLers who needed work.

He jerked his tie off and looked around. "Alfred?" he called. Usually the staid butler was there to greet him, clucking over this issue or that issue like a mother hen. "Alfred?" Bruce moved into the study and carefully opened the clock that led down to the Batcave. "Alfred?" he called down.

No answer.

"Up here, Master Bruce. I'm attending someone." Bruce's head jerked up. Alfred's voice came from the upstairs guest bathroom. It was a large, spacey room and the place where a large amount of extra medical supplies were kept.

The large man took the steps two at a time. "What's happened?" he demanded as he entered the huge bathroom area. "Who's injured?" he continued in confusion as he looked around. The only person he saw was Alfred.

"A friend of ours," Alfred told him with an amused glance.

Bruce stared at him dumbfounded. "Who?" he demanded again. "You?"

Alfred sighed and gestured to the printer box sitting on the stool lid. "You might say he's your familiar."

Bruce peered into the box and, to his surprise, found a young bat lying in a bed of yellow silk. Its gaze was decidedly...content, which disconcerted Bruce no end. "What happened?"

Alfred shrugged, not really having an answer to that question. "The young sir was injured, a thorn in its wing and several scraps along its side. I would say it got disoriented and flew into a thorn thicket somewhere. I have doctored it and now it's resting."

Bruce looked up at Alfred with wide eyes, as if unable to believe Alfred just mended a bat. "Leave him alone, sir. Unlike you, this poor fellow knows when he needs medical attention."

Bruce's nose wrinkled unconsciously at the rebuke, reminding Alfred of the little boy he'd once been. "All better then?" he inquired.

Alfred's face broke into a satisfied grin. "All better, Master Bruce. I believe some rest will be perfect for our guest and then we shall return him home downstairs."

Bruce trailed after Alfred into the darkened guest bedroom. The curtains were closed and towels were tucked in various spots on the window to block out the light the curtains did not. Several fans were going, cooling the air to a cave-like temperature. For a bat, next to a cave, it was quite cozy. Bruce felt right at home himself.

Alfred set the box on the bed, fluffing covers around the box, though not covering it, as if tucking the bat, and box, in for a nap. "There, young sir," Alfred said softly to the small creature. "All will be well soon and you shall return to your bug-eating lifestyle."

Alfred turned away, ignoring the flabbergasted look on his master's face. The two made it to the door when a horrible screech resounded around the room. It was like nails on chalkboard and both men cringed at the sound.

Alfred rushed back to the bed and peered into the box. "Yes?" Another loud screech and Alfred sat down on the bed.

"Master Bruce?"

Bruce nodded, unable to speak. Was his butler, the man who raised him since his parents' death treating the bat like a human child?

"Will you please get me a magazine and a storybook? Our guest seems unable to rest. Perhaps it's kin to you and will fall asleep with a chapter from Robin Hood." Alfred made shooing motions and Bruce walked mechanically out the door, stunned.

Alfred gave a huge grin when Bruce could no longer see him. This was actually fun.

* * *

Alfred had been up there all day. Bruce was beginning to wonder if the elderly gentleman had gone off his nut. Alfred never showed signs of senility before...

"Master Bruce?" called down Alfred's voice. Bruce cringed. Now what? "Could you make me some tea, sir? I'm quite thirsty." Alfred had been reading to the bat for three hours now.

Bruce went to make tea.

* * *

"And then he asked me to make him some tea," Batman reported to Robin, who was staring at him as if he were insane.

"You are kidding me, right? Alfred?" It was obvious the Boy Wonder didn't believe Batman, not that the older crime fighter blamed him. He was still having trouble processing it himself.

"I was given strict instructions that we were not to get injured. He already had one patient and that was enough." Batman shook his head, remembering Alfred's stern voice and expression. He'd been serious!

"Wow!" breathed Robin with a quirked smile. "That's kinda cool!"

Batman rolled his eyes. There was no use complaining to Nightwing either. He'd only get the same reaction.

* * *

"How's the bat, Alfred?" Timothy Drake, also known as Robin, came bounding into the kitchen where Alfred was peeling carrots.

"Sir?" asked Alfred with an eyebrow raised in puzzlement.

Tim halted and gave a confused smile. "You know, the one you read Robin Hood too and pulled the thorn from?"

Alfred shook his head. "Young master, you have spent too much time perching on rooftops. It has addled your brain. I suggest a carrot." Alfred tossed one at him. "It might improve more than just your vision."

Tim was confused. "But Bruce said that you helped an injured bat the other day."

Alfred looked affronted. "Help one of those nasty, smelly creatures? Are you mad? Master Bruce has been watching too much television lately and so have you. It will rot your brain. I suggest you both find something more healthy to do." Alfred stalked from the kitchen leaving a flabbergasted Tim behind.

Alfred was glad he chose that time to exit. The smile was almost ready to break through.

* * *

Bruce and Tim came down the steps two weeks later into the Batcave, each expecting to hear Alfred muttering about the mess the bats made, as was his normal routine.

To their surprise, though, there was still a mess of guano everywhere (how did one escape it?) and Alfred was not grousing. If anything, he was cheerfully scrubbing the penny. They did not move as Alfred climbed down his ladder and moved it over to the dinosaur.

Both were floored when Alfred singsonged out, "Young sir, wake up! I moved!" A small fluttering of wings drew their eyes to a small bat, which fluttered over to hang upside down near Alfred's position, as if it were watching over Alfred.

"Wow," said Tim in amazement.

And that, Bruce had to admit, pretty much summed it up.

**Author's Note:**

> For my former friend, Steve S., who could argue down ANYBODY who said Alfred wasn't the greatest Bat character of all time. I never tried. He's right. Alfred rocks!


End file.
